


Trip Through Your Wires

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Antler Play, Attempted Deep-Throating, Consensual Face-Fucking, Fawnlock, Forehead Kisses for Paula, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mating Noises, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rutting, Scenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:37:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock are content to spend a lazy afternoon lounging about the cabin.  Things get a little more exciting than either of them had anticipated when John accidentally discovers just how sensitive the fawn's antlers really are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trip Through Your Wires

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bennyslegs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bennyslegs/gifts).



> Thank you to [Flamiekitten](http://flamiekitten.tumblr.com/) for the moral support and beta/brit-picking support. You are amazing! All remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Thank you to [Bennyslegs](http://bennyslegs.tumblr.com/) for the idea, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Comments keep me going, please let me know what you think! Stop by my [Tumblr](http://lady-macphisto.tumblr.com/) and follow me for updates if you like what you see!

John put down his book, snuggled further back into the couch cushions, and sighed in contentment as the spring breeze gently blew in from the open windows. He looked down at the fawn stretched out with him on the couch between his legs and smiled. Sherlock was dozing in his lap with his head on John’s warm stomach, his large ears occasionally flicking at some imaginary dust mite or shifting to listen at something John’s ears couldn’t perceive. Sherlock had always had little regard for personal space, which had annoyed John in the beginning, but now he was slowly growing to love the freedom that came with sharing a space with someone as refreshing and free from social stigmas as the fawn. 

John knew better than to assume Sherlock was asleep – the ears alone were enough of a tell – so he started to card his fingers through the soft curls around his antlers. Sherlock stirred slightly and tried to nuzzle further into John’s stomach, frowning at the cloth barrier and pushing the dressing gown out of the way with a frustrated huff.  John didn’t protest.  He’d found himself caring less and less about modesty around the fawn. Today, Sherlock had pulled him straight from his morning tea to the couch, meaning John was only clothed in his dressing gown and pants. 

Once Sherlock had pushed the material away from John’s belly, he rubbed his face and ears back and forth over the exposed skin to scent him and began a deep rumbling purr that made John chuckle.

“That tickles!” He squirmed a bit as Sherlock continued to settle. “You’re like an over-sized house-cat, you know that?”

Sherlock tilted his head up to look at John and fixed him with a deadly stare, crinkling his nose in disgust. John just smiled back and scratched playfully at the scruffy hair around the bottom of Sherlock’s ears.  The fawn huffed and lay back down on his human pillow. John was in no mood to endure a sulk on such a lovely day, so he started to play with Sherlock’s curls again to gentle him. 

Sherlock began to purr again and John allowed it without teasing this time – the rumbling was really quite nice, he’d decided. He started lightly running his nails over Sherlock’s scalp and the fawn pushed up into the touch.  John smiled to himself and wondered if the fawn’s antlers were sensitive to touch; Sherlock was always very careful with them when they were close, so John had never ventured to try before.

He lightly brushed the base of one with his fingertips and the fawn gasped, but did not pull away. It wasn’t a negative response so John tried again, circling the rough base of the antler with the pad of his fingertip.  Sherlock practically melted into the touch, all tension suddenly gone from his prone body. Taking that as a clear sign to continue, John softly ran his fingertip up and down the length of the velvet-covered antlers, swirling and circling each of the tines from coronet to crown. 

It was all very soothing, and as Sherlock continued to mewl and purr, John found himself getting blissfully lost in the repetitive motions and the way the velvet sensitized the skin of his fingertips. He eventually became aware that the fawn had gone rather quiet and, as he continued to caress the tines, he noticed that Sherlock was ever-so-subtly thrusting his hips up against John’s bare thigh.  It was just a whisper of a movement, but John was sure of it. 

He decided to test the waters and see where the fawn wanted to take this. Sherlock had no trouble telling him no, or calling him an idiot on a daily basis, so John knew that he would just get up and wander away if things weren’t going his way.

John watched the gentle thrusting and timed his experiment with the next inward thrust of the fawn’s hips. He wrapped his hand lightly around the beam of an antler and gently pulled his hand in a steady, upward stroke. Sherlock made a startled clicking noise in the back of his throat that John had never heard before, thrust hard into his thigh and then held very still for a few moments before nervously settling back into the couch. John could feel the tension vibrating off the fawn in waves.

“Hey now, none of that – it’s fine, it’s all fine,” he softly reassured Sherlock as he moved his hands down to the fawn’s shoulders and gave him a comforting squeeze. “Was that a good noise, or a bad noise?  Sometimes I can’t tell with you.”  He made sure to keep his tone light so Sherlock knew he wasn’t upset.

Sherlock nuzzled into John’s stomach, hiding his face from him, his ears and tail nervously twitching back and forth. John started carding his fingers through the fawn’s curls, carefully avoiding his antlers and waited for Sherlock to settle.

“Good.  Good noise…” His voice was so soft and hesitant, and after a long pause he continued. “Good, mate noise… makes mate… _brave_ …”  He furrowed his brow, seeming to struggle with the language barrier that still existed between them. 

“It _encourages_ mating?”  John suggested.

“Encourages, yes. Good mate, encourages mating.” Some confidence was returning to his voice, and as Sherlock turned his eyes up to him John saw the mischievous grin he had grown to both love and fear.  “John good mate?  John _encouraged_?”  He smirked, thrusting into John’s leg in an obvious challenge.

“Oh god, yes,” John breathed, returning the challenge by gripping both antlers firmly and stroking both from base to tip.  Just as he had hoped, Sherlock seemed startled by John’s boldness and repeated the throat-clicking, tossing his head back and thrusting into john’s leg with a growl.  “You like that, don’t you?” 

“Obvious,” Sherlock rumbled fondly, suddenly shifting to straddle John.  He lowered his hips and began thrusting his hardening cock against John’s through his pants. Both men groaned in pleasure and set a steady rhythm, while John leaned up to suck on the outstretched neck above him.  Sherlock keened and immediately sought John’s mouth with his own. The kiss was sloppy and lacked any kind of finesse whatsoever, so John reached up and gently cradled the fawn’s head, rubbing the base of his antlers to get his attention. 

“Slow down, I’m not going anywhere.”

“John would _leave_?  John would leave _NOW_?”  Sherlock looked mortified.

John chuckled, and explained between kisses, “It’s an… expression … it means … _hng_ … we can take… our time.” 

“Idiot.”  Sherlock huffed, and looked down at their grinding cocks. “John’s clothing is stupid. Pants off now. Pants off like _me_.” He emphasized his point by giving one last thrust before sliding to the floor in front of the couch and swinging John’s legs around so he was kneeling between them. He used this new position to yank John’s pants down his hips to get his point across. John lifted his hips and the fawn removed his pants completely, carelessly tossing them over his shoulder as John shrugged out of his dressing gown as well.  For a moment, Sherlock simply stared, but just as John was beginning to think he might have changed his mind, he leaned in and began licking and nuzzling John’s thighs. The feeling of fur on that particularly sensitive skin was driving him mad and, as Sherlock continued to scent him, John lightly swirled his fingers around his own nipples. The combined sensations were glorious.

When Sherlock reached the dense hair around John’s cock he took deep pull of the musk, whimpering happily as he began frantically rubbing his face and ears all around the base, then growling and clearly losing himself in the moment.  John reached down and used one hand to hold his cock against his belly out of self-preservation – and the other to calm the fawn’s movements. 

“Careful love, you don’t want your antlers to end this before it’s begun,” he teased fondly.

The fawn simply huffed and began licking the same area he had just been scenting.  Sherlock’s ears were occasionally brushing John’s cock and it was driving him insane;  he was trying to be patient and let the fawn set the pace, but there was only so much he could take.  It had been a while since he’d last experienced this, and he’d be damned if his own stamina was the reason this ended too soon. 

“Please Sherlock.  _Please_ ,” he whimpered as he thrust slightly against the fawn’s face. 

Sherlock looked up at John through his eyelashes and gave John a smirk that would put the Devil to shame. John nearly came right then and there.  Sherlock growled low in his throat and licked John from base to tip. He swirled his tongue around the head, losing himself in the taste of John’s leaking cock. John was just beginning to wonder if he could talk Sherlock through giving him a proper blowjob, when the fawn suddenly took all of his brain functions off-line by beginning to eagerly suck on his tip. 

“FUCK.   Sherlock … huh … yesss … _hng_ … please – just like _that_.”  He struggled to encourage the fawn.  “Please… a little more – can you t-take a … a little more in your mouth?”

The fawn hummed in agreement and, in typical Sherlock fashion, took John in to the back of his throat in one quick motion, making himself gag and sputter.  He made a bleating noise, gagged again, and pulled off of John completely.  The violence of the failed attempt to swallow him whole snapped John out of his blissed-out state and had him reaching out to pull the fawn to his chest in comfort.  He stroked the back of the Sherlock’s head with one hand and held him close with the other, leaning down and placing a light kiss on the fawn’s creased forehead.

“Shhhhh, shh, it’s okay.  Not so fast, yeah?  We’ll get there.”  The fawn’s rapid breathing was slowing down, but he continued nuzzling into John’s chest.  “Do you want to stop?  I can take care of myself, and then help you?”  John asked hopefully.

Sherlock pulled back and looked up at John, some of the previous cockiness was gone, but his eyes were still blown wide.

“No stop, no.  Try again?  Slow like John say?”  the fawn offered, and started to slide down John’s torso, never taking his eyes off John’s.  “I learn?  John show?” 

“Jesus, you are going to be the death of me.  Okay then, as you like.” 

Sherlock settled back on his knees with his hands on John’s thighs.  He frowned when he saw that John had gone partially soft. 

“John?” he questioned, “John finished?” 

“No, not finished,” John chuckled – and then remembered Sherlock’s earlier teasing. “You have to _encourage_ me again,” he said with a smirk of his own.

Sherlock said nothing, but he leaned in to huff a few warm breaths against John’s hardening cock. He made eye contact with John and deliberately made a lower, drawn out version of the mating noise in the back of his throat, flicking his ears against John’s skin.

“Oh, you mad bastard,” John groaned. “You’ve been paying attention.”

“Obvious,” Sherlock whispered before taking John in his mouth once more.  At first the fawn slid his mouth halfway up and down John’s cock and suckled slightly, at a steady pace.  A deep, rumbling purr started radiating from his chest. 

“Oh, y-you lovely beast,” John panted.  “A little faster now… oooh god, yes, j-just like – _huh_ – that.  Oh… oh yes – try using your tongue a… a bit.  YES.  _Fuck._ ” 

John was struggling to keep his hips still.  He reached out started threading his hands through the fawn’s hair, running his fingers up and down the tines of his velvety antlers.  Sherlock groaned and took a little bit more of John into his mouth.

The feelings of Sherlock’s soft lips and slick tongue surrounding his cock were overwhelming, and when Sherlock took more of him in, John grabbed the fawn’s antlers and started stroking them in a matched rhythm to that of Sherlock’s on his cock.  He was so close. 

“Sh-Sherlock… do you – do you trust me?” he panted, barely able to keep his train of thought.  The fawn didn’t take his mouth off of John, but he fixed him with a glare that said “ _idiot_ ” louder than any spoken word could.

“Look at me Sherlock, oh god, l … look at me, please.” 

John took hold of Sherlock’s sensitive antlers and began gently thrusting into the fawn’s eager mouth. The fawn offered no resistance, trusting John to know how much he could take, never taking his eyes off of John’s.  John lost himself to the sensation of shallowly fucking Sherlock’s mouth, and Sherlock tried to meet one of his thrusts to take him further in, but he gagged a little and quickly let John take control again.

“Not today love... I’m too – close… _hah_ … your m-mouth, your fucking _mouth._ Oh god, oh Christ Sherlock… I’m gonna come.  Pull off love – p-pull off…”

He gasped as Sherlock took control, closing his mouth around his cock and reaching up to pinch one of John’s nipples between his fingertips.

 “SHERLOCK!” John cried and came into the hot, waiting mouth.  Sherlock tried to swallow it all, but seemed perfectly happy to lick up what he missed.  He had just started to nuzzle into the sticky mess and scent himself with John’s musk, when John gently pushed him away. “Sensitive… just give me a minute,” he panted, carding his fingers through his lover’s hair.  

Sherlock laid his head on the top of John’s thigh and absent-mindedly swirled his fingers around his thighs and hips with one-hand and casually stroked his own cock with his other, seeming content to wait. 

“Mmmm s’nice,” John said, voice slurred, as his breathing slowed down and began to relax.  Eventually, he shifted and encouraged the fawn to climb onto the couch again.  John pulled him up so that he sat with his back to John’s chest, head resting back on John’s good shoulder. 

“Let’s get you sorted, love,” John huffed against his ear as he began exploring Sherlock with his hands.  He slotted his arms under the fawn’s, holding him firmly with his right arm across his chest and reaching up with his left to run his fingertips down the fawn’s slightly furred neck, which made Sherlock whimper and purr.  As his fingers continued to caress and soothe southward towards the fawn’s nipples, John followed his fingers with his lips, sucking and licking Sherlock’s neck until the fawn was panting and begging for more.

“John.  _John_ ,” he panted as he turned his face towards John for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, before collapsing his head back onto John’s shoulder a moment later when he began rubbing circles around one of the fawn’s sensitive nipples.

“John, good.  Oooooh.  M-more John.”  The fawn placed his hand over John’s and started asking – “Name?  John g-good, _name_ John?” – which was his typical way of letting John know he didn’t know the English word for what he wanted to say.  Typically it involved things like toasters and light switches and made John smile while teaching him; right now however it made John fill with desire and an overwhelming need to please his lover.

“Mmmm, you like this?  You like when I play with your _nipples_ , Sherlock?” The fawn groaned and arched up into John’s touch as he pinched and rubbed the sensitized skin before twisting slightly. He toyed with the idea of making him repeat the word as they did when learning about other things, but he could tell the fawn was desperate to finish.  There would be other times for teasing. “Oh, the things I will do to you, Sherlock – imagine how this will feel when it’s my mouth and not my fingers, love.” 

The fawn was thrusting into empty air now. It didn’t seem to register that he could stroke himself and John took pity on him, reaching down to take the fawn’s leaking cock in hand and gave one firm pull from base to tip.

Sherlock practically growled and cried out John’s name while thrusting repeatedly into his fist. John rubbed his palm over Sherlock’s cock, using his natural lubrication to make things a little smoother. The fawn’s ragged panting, mixed with his groans and whimpers, were a symphony to John’s ears.  He watched as he pulled the dark brown foreskin back to reveal the glistening pink tip of Sherlock’s cock.  It was such a beautiful contrast. 

John was struck with sudden inspiration and angled his head so he could take one of Sherlock’s velvety tines into his mouth.  He used his free hand to gently grab some of Sherlock’s hair to steady him as a precaution and _sucked_.  The angle was awkward but the reward was priceless.  The fawn yelled his name and immediately came all over John’s hand. 

They both lay there panting and gently stroking one another for a long while after, enjoying the boneless feeling that came over them. Eventually, John grabbed his dressing gown off the floor and wiped his hand as best he could with a lap full of fawn.  He started to reach for Sherlock to help clean him a bit but the fawn swatted his hand away.

Sherlock turned around to face John, scooted down the couch, grabbed John behind his knees and physically pulled him down into a prone position, reminding John of how strong the fawn was in just one move.  He then crawled back up and braced himself over John, and started thrusting his sticky fur into John’s hips.  John was about to protest, because really, that was just disgusting, but then he saw the possessive way that Sherlock was staring at him and he decided to allow it. He had, after all, allowed the fawn worse things than marking him with his post-sex musk.  Sherlock leaned down and began licking and sucking on John’s neck while he continued to scent and mark his lover.

“ _Mine_ ,” he said forcefully as he pulled back, tilting his head back and forth, seeming to examine John’s face like it was the first time he was seeing him. “John… good mate?  John… mine?” he timidly asked, stilling his hips as if he had just realized what he was doing, his ears twitching back and forth nervously.

John reached up and pulled him down into a kiss.  This one was gentle, almost chaste compared to the others they had just shared, and when he pulled back, he looked into Sherlock’s eyes and saw the hope there.  He pulled the fawn down to lay with him on the couch, wrapping his arms around him to comfort him, cradling his head against his chest and gently stroking his hair.

“Yours, Sherlock.”   

The fawn sighed in relief and relaxed. John wasn’t sure what he had just gotten himself into, but he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to care just then. He held Sherlock closer, and just enjoyed the moment.


End file.
